


My Mini-Kin Owl

by yozra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Because I don’t know how to tag this yet…, Canonical Alternate Universe, It’s less IwaAka and more Iwaizumi and his little Akaashi owl, M/M, One-sided soulmate identifiers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soulmates, The rating is probably G but it’s T just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra
Summary: Iwaizumi receives a gift.He tries to figure out how to embrace it into his life.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Iwaizumi Hajime
Comments: 28
Kudos: 45





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on Twitter as a short story - basically I woke up at 5am, thought of those BokuAka fanart with the little owls, wondered what would happen with a different pairing, chose IwaAka because it's _IwaAka_ , typed it up quickly, tweeted it. The story posted here has been edited - only slightly as I don't want it drifting too far from the original - though you may find it bare. I'm not sure if I'll post on both platforms or stick solely with AO3, either way I'll be taking a tad more care with the writing from the second chapter onwards.
> 
> As the tags state, it's less about Iwaizumi and Akaashi, and more about Iwaizumi and his little Akaashi owl (for now). I really don't know what's going to come out of this, except I have odd ideas floating around. My plan is to make this a collection of independent one-shots (for this story). The format is different from my usual wordier writing - the chapters will be short, updates potentially frequent (in the beginning at least) and the story itself will be used as a 'breather' of sorts.

Iwaizumi looked down at his cupped hands as he walked to school. Had been doing so since he left the house, nearly tripping over a large, translucent white bag pulled onto the street by crows, rubbish strewn across the floor, and almost running into a utility pole as he turned a corner.  
  
“Iwa-chan!”  
  
Hurried footsteps came up from behind. Instead of continuing to walk, Iwaizumi turned around and waited, knowing a slap would follow otherwise; he didn’t want to be jostled.  
  
Oikawa slowed to a stop, eyes on what Iwaizumi was holding.  
  
“Is that—“  
  
“Akaashi.”  
  
Well. A palm-sized Akaashi owl. Iwaizumi had been given it when he had gone to Tokyo over the weekend for his date with Akaashi, just before their goodbyes at the ticket gates, just after they mumbled confessions that their relationship was working out better than imagined.  
  
(“Iwaizumi-san, I would like to give this to you. It’s nothing much, just a small token of my affection.”  
  
“You didn’t have to get me anything, I don’t have anything to give in – oh. Wow. Okay. Uh – thanks. I mean, thank you. Really. It’s… it’s cute.”  
  
“Please take care of it.”)  
  
Oikawa gasped, eyes bright and too enthusiastic. “You got a Mini-Kin!”  
  
Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “A minikin?”  
  
With a blink, the brightness dulled, coloured thick with disbelief. “You don’t know what a Mini-Kin is?” Oikawa asked slowly.  
  
Iwaizumi shrugged. “Should I?”  
  
“How have you gone through your life not knowing—“  
  
“What is it!”  
  
Iwaizumi quickly checked the little owl, thinking his bark might have scared it, but instead found its beady eyes staring back up at him.  
  
“A Mini-Kin is a ‘Miniature’ animal that’s ‘aKin’ to their owner. They only ever appear when the owner’s feelings for someone’s strong, and even then, only once in a lifetime.”  
  
Iwaizumi glanced back at Oikawa; Oikawa was watching him with that expression, the one where his natural ability to annoy everyone had gone, along with his smile, and the humour in his eyes.  
  
“Iwa-chan… do you know what that means?”  
  
Iwaizumi turned back to the little owl.  
  
He titled his hands so the owl shuffled to sit in his left palm, and with the tip of his forefinger rubbed under its chin; the owl closed its eyes and gave a soft hoot, a high-pitched little sound that could easily be carried off by a breeze.  
  
He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. I think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word 'minikin' is defined as:
> 
> 1) a small person/thing  
> 2) something insignificant or trivial
> 
> When giving gifts, Japanese people tend to say it's 'nothing much' or 'something insignificant/trivial' only to reveal a gift that’s lavish, had a lot of thought put into, or taken a lot of time to make, and I thought using the word minikin/Mini-Kin would be reflective of that; even giving one's affection in the shape of a living 'soulmark' that could only ever be created once in a lifetime (and even then, only by a select number of people) would still be considered 'nothing'.


	2. What Does a Mini-Kin Eat?

Iwaizumi tore a piece off his yakisoba bread and held it out.  
  
The owl blinked. Tilted its head. Blinked. Stared.  
  
Turned its back to the bread and to Iwaizumi.  
  
“You haven’t eaten anything since last night.”  
  
Since they met.  
  
The owl curled up into a ball and puffed up its feathers.  
  
“Have you offended him?”  
  
Hanamaki dropped down to sit beside him; Matsukawa took the seat opposite.  
  
“Hey, Mini-Akaashi, what about my lunch?”  
  
Hanamaki set a wrapped bento onto his lap, untied the knot, pulled out the box; at the click of the lid opening, the owl turned its head.  
  
It was a typical bento – deep-fried chicken, tomatoes, cucumbers, rolled omelette. Half the box was packed with rice.  
  
The owl stared for a few moments longer – contemplatively, Iwaizumi thought – then turned its back to them all.  
  
“Damn – I thought he was gonna go for it then.”  
  
“Maybe he’ll like Oikawa’s lunch,” Matsukawa suggested, untying his own bento. “Where is he, anyway?”  
  
“Buying milk bread.” Iwaizumi pulled out his phone, though not to message him. “I did a search on these Minchkins—”  
  
“Mini-Kins,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa corrected in unison.  
  
Iwaizumi wondered how everyone seemed to know about these— “Mini-Kins.” He returned to the screen. “Anyway – I can’t find anything on—”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Iwaizumi looked up at Matsukawa exclamation, finding the owl hopping over to him, craning its neck to better see the item in his hand—  
  
An onigiri.  
  
“I offered you rice!” Hanamaki cried. “Wasn’t it good enough?!”  
  
Matsukawa pinched a corner off his triangular rice and held it out. “There you go.”  
  
The owl stilled.  
  
It took off, flapping up onto Matsukawa’s hand and the bigger onigiri; it snapped at the air in demand.  
  
“Oi,” Iwaizumi called. “He already offered you—”  
  
“It’s fine,” Matsukawa said, chuckling. “Eat as much as you want. This one’s salmon.”  
  
Hanamaki leaned over onto Matsukawa to watch. “So – what? He only eats rice when it’s shaped like onigiri?”  
  
“Maybe his favourite food’s onigiri?”

  
  
(12:42 Is your favourite food onigiri?  
  
12:54 My favourite food is nanohana. More specifically, nanohana dressed in mustard.  
13:01 Having considered your question further, I have come to the conclusion that onigiri comes a close second.  
13:01 Why do you ask?  
  
13:04 Just wondered)  
  
  
So maybe the Mini-Kin owl liked to feed on Akaashi’s favourite foods. Nanohana was tricky to find in the wrong season, but onigiri was easy to buy or make. But could the owl survive on onigiri? Was it nutritious enough? Maybe if he changed the fillings around—

* * *

“...He ate it all,” Hanamaki said, breaking the silence first.  
  
Matsukawa nodded. “Yes, he did.”  
  
“All three of them...”  
  
“All three of them.”  
  
“...Wanna eat some of mine?”  
  
The little owl lay on its side in Iwaizumi’s hand, its eyes closed—  
  
It hooted in contentment.


	3. Two-Minute Panic

Iwaizumi pulled the team shirt over his head and pushed his arms through the sleeves. Gripping the hem he tugged sharply down, straightening his uniform.  
  
The owl, who had been watching from inside the locker, flapped up to come and land on his shoulder.  
  
Iwaizumi shook his head.  
  
“You can’t come.”  
  
A hoot of protest.  
  
“I can’t play if you’re on my shoulder like this.”  
  
The owl’s talons dug deeper—  
  
“Ow, ow – _ow_! Stop that! It’s not about you staying on my shoulder! What if a ball comes flying, huh?”  
  
The owl hopped and flew up, hovering by Iwaizumi’s face.  
  
Iwaizumi snorted. “You’re gonna have to react a lot faster than that if Oikawa’s serve comes hurtling.” He held out his hand; the owl accepted its new landing site and settled down.  
  
It looked up at Iwaizumi expectantly.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t want you with me. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”  
  
The owl took off again, returning to the locker and settling itself down, closing its eyes.  
  
Iwaizumi rubbed the top of its head, only for it to react…  
  
…with nothing.  
  
He sighed. Now would be a good time to seriously consider recruiting a manager.  
  
“You think Akaashi’d be happy with you joining practice? Just… have a rest. I’ll figure something out for next time.”  
  
He received a faint hoot – downtrodden, but understanding.  
  
(Or so he hoped.)  
  
Practice ran overtime. Iwaizumi worked on receives, keeping Oikawa and his drive to hone his serves company. Once done (and shooed away to leave first while Oikawa cleared up – captain’s orders), Iwaizumi headed straight for his locker and opened the door, finding the owl—  
  
Not where he last left it.  
  
He checked his open school bag, and then inside.  
  
He checked the hangers, hoping to find it perching on top and – when it wasn’t – the pockets of his shirt, jacket and trousers in case it had fallen in.  
  
“Where are you,” he muttered, hurrying his search.  
  
It couldn’t have escaped—  
  
Or could it? Was it hiding superheroic powers – was it deceptively strong and had actually pushed the locker door open?  
  
He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.  
  
Akaashi had entrusted the owl to him. And here he was, just one day later—

  
  
(“ _I’m calling to apologise for earlier. I’ll reclaim the owl when we next meet—_ ”  
  
“Reclaim? Why? You said ‘take care of it.’”  
  
“ _Yes—_ ”  
  
“That it’s your affection.”  
  
“ _Yes, but—_ ”  
  
“But? But you regret giving it to me?”  
  
“…”  
  
“Akaashi?”  
  
“ _I… no._ ”  
  
“So it’s fine. I’ll take good care of it.”)  
  


He wasn’t going to break his promise.  
  
Iwaizumi grabbed his bag, dropping it onto the floor, and then his tie—  
  
That wasn’t hanging on his jacket like usual, but tugged down and dragged to the back, bundled like a nest, a fluffy, brown lump curled up in the centre, asleep.


	4. And I Will Call You—

Iwaizumi rested his chin on his hands and watched the Mini-Kin potter around his desk.  
  
It looked up to examine his pen stand.  
  
It looked down to watch the clock hands move from 8:45 to 8:47.  
  
It hopped over to his box folder of papers, tugging at a stray sheet sticking out.  
  
It flew to the top of his desk lamp, gripping the painted metal for perchability. It glided, apparently dissatisfied, to the top of his open laptop, hopping across from the right before flying onto his Godzilla figure’s head; it barked as it jumped up and down on the jagged surface.  
  
“No one’s forcing you to stay there,” Iwaizumi said, a little put out at the owl not liking what should be prime perching position.  
  
The owl flew to the middle of his open textbook, right in front of his face, where it settled down.  
  
Iwaizumi knew he would have to give ‘it’ a name soon. He couldn’t keep saying ‘The owl’ or ‘The Mini-Kin’. He didn’t want to call it ‘Akaashi’ because that was too confusing, but ‘Mini-Akaashi’ was a mouthful. Still, he wanted the name to be related to Akaashi somehow.

(19:34 What’s the owl’s name?  
  
19:34 I don’t know  
19:34 I didn’t think to ask  
19:34 Have you asked?  
  
19:35 It hooted  
  
19:35 And?  
  
19:35 That’s it  
  
19:35 Try mimicking the sound  
  
19:36 ...It gave me a look  
  
19:36 A look?  
  
19:36 Yeah. Like yours when I talk Godzilla for too long)

Related to Akaashi but not. Which left...  
  
“... Keiji?”  
  
The hoot sounded like approval. But even as he said it, the name didn’t sit well in his chest.  
  
“Keiji... huh.”  
  
He reached for his phone, pulled up the chat; his thumb hovered over the screen.  
  
He took a deep breath.

20:53 I’m gonna name the owl Akaashi

He told himself he would wait a moment.  
  
A minute.  
  
Two.  
  
…  
  
Read.

20:56 I understand your reasoning  
20:56 Although it would be confusing when we’re together  
  
20:56 So I’ll call you Keiji

The ‘read’ appeared instantly.  
  
The reply didn’t.  
  
Iwaizumi groaned into his book; he went too far.  
Torn between explaining or waiting, the former won.

20:58 Only if you want  
20:58 You can call me Hajime  
20:58 With or without san or kun  
20:58 Iwa  
20:58 Anything but Iwa-chan  
20:59 Or I‘ll name the owl Keiji and call you Akaashi  
  
21:00 Please call me Keiji

Iwaizumi released the breath he had been holding without realising. He started typing his reply, one casual enough to write off his scrambled messages—

21:01 You said ‘Iwa-chan’ is unavailable  
21:01 What of ‘Hajime-chan’?

Iwaizumi glanced at Akaashi.  
“And the humour comes out.”  
Akaashi hooted.

21:01 If you can look me in the eye and say it with a straight face, you can call me whatever you want  
  
21:01 I’m afraid the thought itself made me smile

Iwaizumi grinned and started typing—

21:02 Hajime-san


	5. Bedhead Headbed

Towelling his hair dry, Iwaizumi returned to his room, immediately glancing to his desk where he’d last seen Akaashi – now gone, but he wasn’t afraid of losing him when the room had been tidied and checked for dangers the previous night, and he’d closed the door when leaving.  
  
He scanned the furniture – spotted a brown ball against the mint blue pillow; a few years back and it would’ve been camouflaged against the fiery black silhouette of his favourite film star.  
  
Akaashi’s eyes were closed.  
  
“You can’t sleep there,” Iwaizumi said as he walked over.  
  
He draped the towel over the back of his chair and lifted the pillow up as gently as he could; Akaashi pried his eyes open at the sway and weakly hooted his argument. Or hooted a weak argument. Either way—  
  
“I’ll end up squashing you.”  
  
The owl heaved himself off the pillow, a heavy drop for every two strained flaps up, wavering all the way to land—   
  
On Iwaizumi’s head.  
  
“…No.”  
  
A weaker hoot.  
  
Iwaizumi reached to where the owl sat; touching soft feathers, he scooped him up and brought him to eye level.  
  
“You like grabbing hold of my attention, don’t you? Does Akaa—” Iwaizumi remembered his conversation. “Does Keiji know you’re this demanding?”  
  
A hoot, and Iwaizumi was sure he was imagining the bob of the owl’s head to be a ‘yes’ in reply.  
  
From what Oikawa had shared, Iwaizumi gathered that a Mini-Kin reflected their owner’s self. But the owl didn’t match what Iwaizumi knew of Akaashi – Keiji, Iwaizumi mentally corrected again (he would have to get used to it soon) – his coolness suggesting he preferred distance.  
  
To have Akaashi (the owl) demanding constant attention was surprising. It meant beneath the exterior, Keiji was actually—  
  
“A snuggler.”  
  
Iwaizumi rubbed the owl's head and was rewarded with purring; he had no idea owls could purr.  
  
Then again, maybe he should have known better.  
  
(“…?”  
  
“Oh – I’m sorry, am I sitting too close—”  
  
“It’s fine, stay there, I just – expected you to… like personal space.”  
  
“I assumed because of our status – I should’ve asked—”  
  
“I didn’t say I don’t like it—”  
  
“Neither have you said you do.”  
  
“Well – all right. I do.”)  
  
With each stroke of Iwaizumi’s thumb, Akaashi’s eyelids drooped, and drooped, until his eyes remained closed, leaving Iwaizumi with a sleeping Mini-Kin in his hand.  
Iwaizumi returned the pillow to its place, turned the light off, and – carefully as he could – started to lie back.  
  
His arm stuck awkwardly out as he tried to avoid jostles and startles. He raised his hand past his face and slid Akaashi into the dip in the pillow made by his head so he sat tucked in and cushioned by his hair.  
  
Closing his eyes and exhaling, Iwaizumi, too, sank into sleep.


	6. Akaashi's Dream

“ _Hooo-hoo-hoo-hoo—_ ”  
  
“Salmon, yes, that’s nice.”  
  
“ _Hoo-hoooo-hoo-hoooo—_ ”  
  
“Three? You must have been very hungry.”  
  
“ _Hoo. Hoooo-hoo-hoo—_ ”  
  
“But did you ask?”  
  
The owl, Akaashi, (who really liked his new name), pondered over the question.  
  
“ _Hoo…_ ”  
  
“Well, make sure to ask next time—  
  
“Though I would probably have done the same had I been in your position.”  
  
Akaashi received little pats on the head that made him as satisfied as eating those three onigiris. They had been good. Salmon, and kelp, and sesame seeds with umeboshi.  
  
“You make me hungry for some, too.”  
  
Akaashi had missed Keiji; they had known each other for only three days, but it had felt like forever.  
  
When Akaashi had opened his eyes for the first time, he found Keiji blinking at him.  
  
He hooted a hello.  
  
Keiji spoke his hello back.  
  
Then he said they would have to part ways.  
  
“It’s the way things are,” Keiji had explained. Akaashi had appeared because of Keiji’s feelings for Iwaizumi-Hajime(-san), and it was his Responsibility to look after him. Especially while they lived apart.  
  
“Maybe one day, if things go well, we’ll all be together – permanently.”

Akaashi liked Iwaizumi-Hajime(-san) very much. He smelt woodsy and felt soft, like leaves and earth dampened by showers, he was sturdy and tall and reliable like a good solid tree.  
  
(Akaashi wished he could enjoy the view from the top of his head; it was prime perching position.)  
  
He liked Iwaizumi-Hajime(-san)’s friends. The kind one who had given him onigiri, naturally, but also because his quietness reminded him of Keiji. And the laid-back one who smelt sweet like custard and cooed over him when he thought no one else was watching.  
  
He was wary of the smiley one. He had caught him staring three times with a thoughtful expression. And there was a barrier, one he didn’t want to step into uninvited.  
  
And he wasn’t sure about the name ‘Akaashi-chan’. But it matched ‘Iwa-chan’ so he decided it was okay.  
  
He knew there were others, he had seen glimpses of them from the locker when Iwaizumi-Hajime(-san) had been changing, and he was looking forward to meeting everyone soon.  
  
All this thinking made Akaashi want to return to his new bed, nestled in Iwaizumi-Hajime(-san)’s hair.  
  
“I’m sure it’s very soft.”  
  
Akaashi looked up at Keiji’s comment, saw a smile, small and sad, and a gaze, far and wanting; he knew it wasn’t for onigiri or nanohana or any other food.  
  
Akaashi hooted.  
  
Keiji turned to him. “You’re right. I’m lucky to have you tell me these things.”  
  
Akaashi flew to Keiji’s shoulder; Keiji stroked his head.  
  
“I look forward to more of your tales next time. Meanwhile, please give Hajime-san my regards.”  
  
Akaashi hooted yes—

Opening his eyes, Akaashi thought he had dreamt a very nice dream.  
  
If only he could remember what it was.


	7. The Day We Met (Part I)

Leaning back on his chair, Iwaizumi stretched. They had only started the new school year a few days ago and he was already drowning in homework. He glanced at the clock – 9:54 – then down at Akaashi, who sat, unmoving, in front of the black photo frame – a gift from Keiji.  
  
A neon-lit street shot in the back. Iwaizumi had at least tried to pose, his small grin barely visible in the dark and partially behind the scarf. Keiji was expressionless as usual, except for the loose curl of his fingers that almost – but not quite – grasped Iwaizumi’s jacket.  
  
Iwaizumi had been the one to suggest taking a photo, Keiji the one to take it, a few months ago during New Year’s when Iwaizumi was visiting his grandparents—  
  
And nearly eight months of dating.  
  
Iwaizumi checked the calendar; one year and… twenty days since they first met.  
  
That brought back memories.  
  
A hoot tugged Iwaizumi to reality and he saw Akaashi looking up at him, head tilted.  
  
He could do with a break. “You want to hear about how we met?”  
  
Akaashi hopped over and sat on the question he was supposed to be working on.  
  
“Guess that settles it.”

The day they met, Iwaizumi had been running errands.  
  
He’d left his phone charging, but knew the vague layout of the area, and he figured he‘d ask for directions if he got lost.  
  
Predictably, he got lost.  
  
And not a person in sight.  
  
While at the quiet crossroads, deciding his path—  
  
“Do you need some help?”  
  
Iwaizumi turned to the soft voice, faltered; first at seeing a boy as tall as Oikawa, then again when noting his features.  
  
He pulled himself together. “Is there a post office around here?”  
  
A pause. “Yes. In the direction opposite to where you’re heading.”  
  
Of course it was. “Mind pointing me in the right direction?”  
  
“Walk back down this road, turn right at the convenience store, then the third left—”  
  
Iwaizumi frowned to memorise the route, and once the boy was done, said his thanks and forced himself to lift his feet, to move past—  
  
“I could take you there.”  
  
Iwaizumi’s pulse leapt; he cast off the feeling with his glance. “I don’t want you to go out of your way,” he lied.  
  
“I won’t be. And you might get lost again.”  
  
“I’m not usually this bad with directions,” Iwaizumi said defensively. “It’s just Tokyo.”  
  
“You’re not from Tokyo?”  
  
“I’m visiting relatives over spring break. I live up north, in Miyagi.”  
  
“Oh. I see.”  
  
Something about his tone told Iwaizumi he was disappointed, though that was probably wishful thinking.  
  
“I’ll take you there,” the boy said, firmer, and began walking.  
  
The atmosphere around them was pressured, rising with the temperature – Iwaizumi recalled the news—  
  
‘—With strong southerly winds in the afternoon, potentially marking the day as Haru-Ichiban—’  
  
Iwaizumi snorted. As if his love life would arrive with the first warm gust of spring.


	8. The Day We Met (Part II)

“Thanks for guiding me here,” Iwaizumi said as he stopped outside the building.  
  
Their ten-minute silence was up; he was out of time.  
  
“Will you be able to make your way home?”  
  
“I think I’ll manage.”  
  
“I could also guide you back.”  
  
Iwaizumi forced himself to grin.  
  
“No, you’re good.”  
  
“It wouldn’t be any trouble—”  
  
“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi said, tone sharp. He filed its edge when adding, “I’ll ask if I get lost.”  
  
Why was he deflecting, why was he afraid?  
  
Why did he want to turn his back, but couldn’t bear the idea of watching the other’s shrink into the distance?  
  
A gust tore through his thoughts – they scattered to be carried off by the dancing pink petals.  
  
Iwaizumi squinted. “It’s getting windy—”  
  
“You have petals in your hair.”  
  
Iwaizumi glanced up on instinct – like he could see.  
  
He ruffled his hair. “Gone?”  
  
The boy reached out—  
  
His brushes were gentler than a zephyr. Yet with each touch, Iwaizumi’s skin tingled as though nerves ran all the way to the tip of each strand of hair.  
  
This wasn’t what people who met for the first time did.  
  
It wasn’t.  
  
But for them—  
  
“…Gone?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Iwaizumi wondered.  
  
“I better get going,” Iwaizumi said quietly. “See you around… maybe.”  
  
“It wouldn’t be a maybe if we swapped contact details.”  
  
Iwaizumi was sure he was hearing things through a filter from his wishful thinking coloured pink by the petals.  
  
“I don’t have my phone.”  
  
The boy quirked his eyebrow. “Don’t you know your number?”  
  
Iwaizumi furrowed his. “Course I know.”  
  
More silence. Iwaizumi wasn’t going to break first.  
  
“Then we’ll see each other around.” Obviously, neither was he. “Maybe.”  
  
With that final word hanging, he turned his back to him—  
  
“Akaashi.”  
  
He stood still.  
  
“I should probably go to the station after this. Y’know. Get my bearings. Except I don’t really know the best way.”  
  
“...I can show you.”  
  
“Great! I mean – that’d be… great.”  
  
Iwaizumi headed the same direction, walking quickly past to hide his burning—  
  
“Iwaizumi-san.”  
  
Iwaizumi glanced back.  
  
“Don’t you need to go to the post office?”  
  
He looked to the stone-blue building. Back to the stone-blue eyes he wanted to crack, because he knew they held hidden relics, answers to his questions.  
  
But first—  
  
He inhaled sharply. “Yeah. I do.”

A string of hoots, light and upbeat.  
  
“Look, I know I wasn’t smooth!”  
  
He poked the owl’s stomach, and Akaashi’s hoot sounded closer to a squeal.  
  
“Anyway. I need to finish this.”  
  
He pushed Akaashi off the book, picked up his pencil and picked up where he left off.  
  
Iwaizumi stopped, rewound the last scene.  
  
He was sure he remembered their encounter in full, action for action, word for word. He’d played it enough times, burning layer upon layer deep within instead of wearing it down to fade.  
  
So…  
  
“...How’d we know each other’s names…?”  
  



	9. No. 1

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa staring at the owl munching on his (tuna) onigiri.  
  
“Staring at someone while they’re eating’s considered rude,” Matsukawa said.  
  
“Yeah – shouldn’t you be downstairs impressing the first years like you’ve been doing since school started?” Hanamaki added.  
  
“One, I’m being a reliable sempai by helping newbies find their bearings, and two, my best friends will always come first.” Oikawa said this while still staring. “Is that his third onigiri?”  
  
“He gets hungry,” Iwaizumi said with a shrug. “Really though – why’re you here?”  
  
“I just want to spend time with the recent addition to our group!”  
  
Matsukawa and Hanamaki both ‘ahhh’ed in understanding.  
  
“You’re worried about falling behind on gaining best friend points.”  
  
“You want to be number one in Mini-Akaashi’s best friend popularity poll.”  
  
“Excuse you two, I couldn’t care less about that! Not that it matters – think of all the years Iwa-chan and I have known each other, I don’t need to ask to know I’d be number one!”  
  
“You hear that, Mini-Akaashi?” Hanamaki called.  
  
Akaashi raised his head. Blinked.  
  
“If you had to pick someone to look after you for a day, who’d you choose?” Hanamaki asked; he stroked his head.  
  
“Why would you need to look after him—”  
  
“It’s hypothetical, Iwaizumi—”  
  
“—He’s not going to leave my side—”  
  
“That’s cute—”  
  
“Matsukawa, don’t start—”  
  
“It’s just a bit of fun, Iwa-chan!”  
  
Three faces – alight and expectant, casual and hopeful, neutral and curious – stared down at Akaashi.  
  
Iwaizumi was sure his just showed concern.  
  
Akaashi looked to each in turn, then hopped to leave his half-eaten onigiri—  
  
To Iwaizumi’s lap.  
  
“I expected that,” Matsukawa said, turning to his lunch.  
  
“Honestly, me too.” Hanamaki bit into his sandwich.  
  
“No, no – other than Iwa-chan!”  
  
Akaashi blinked at Oikawa and returned to his onigiri. Hooted.  
  
“A person, Akaashi-chan!”  
  
“Oh—” Iwaizumi pulled out his phone. “That’d be—”  
  
He turned his screen around to show a photo.  
  
Akaashi hooted an agreement and started eating again.  
  
“So we have a winner,” Hanamaki said, “but more questions need answering. Like—”  
  
“When was it taken—”  
  
“Where was your date—”  
  
“Are you holding hands—”  
  
“Is that Akaashi blushing—”

  
(“Can I take a photo of you?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You look… in your element.”  
  
“…Is that because we’re in a park and you’re reminded of my surname and my school mascot.”  
  
“…That might be a reason.”  
  
“Well… as you’re making a request, could I make one in return?”  
  
“Sure. What do you want?”)

“Is _Iwa-chan_ blushing?” Oikawa pushed his face into Iwaizumi’s; Iwaizumi batted him away.  
  
“Akaashi made his choice. Conversation over.” He stuffed his mouth with onigiri.  
  
“Fine,” Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms.  
  
He began tapping his fingers.  
  
“But I’m after Keiji-chan, yes?”  
  



	10. Similarities

1 The obvious: Akaashi ate… a lot. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why he was surprised considering Keiji asked for second or third helpings of miso soup and rice and cleared the basket of bread while Iwaizumi bit into his second roll. But he was, and he continued to be at every meal.  
  


  
2 As Iwaizumi rushed around the house to get ready for school, Akaashi sat unmoving on his pillow with eyes half-closed, a faraway look as though he was completing a circuit that spanned the whole of space. It was only when Iwaizumi stroked his head that Akaashi blinked up.

  
  
3 Following on from that, Iwaizumi would ask what’s up; Akaashi hooted, as if to explain. Even if Iwaizumi understood owl speak, he wouldn’t understand its meaning; kind of like Keiji and his weird comments that make no sense outside of his head.

  
  
4 Under his desk in class, Akaashi groomed his wings and talons. It reminded Iwaizumi of Keiji pulling out a file to start filing his nails, or the hand cream he massaged into his skin with his long, slender fingers.

  
  
5 Akaashi closed his eyes and hooted or purred happily when Iwaizumi stroked his head or scratched under his chin. Iwaizumi hadn’t run fingers through Keiji’s hair or cupped his chin yet, but he liked to imagine that if he did, Keiji might also close his eyes and murmur happily.

  
  
6 Occasionally, the nip of Akaashi’s beak stung the same as Keiji’s cutting remarks. In other words, it didn’t make him bleed, but he was sore and annoyed for some time afterwards.

  
  
7 When visiting Keiji at his house and slinging/throwing his jacket, Keiji promptly snatched it mid-air. When doing the same to his school blazer or tie, Akaashi flew to try to do the same, except he ended up buried or entangled, and Iwaizumi had to rescue the flapping bird.

  
  
8 They could read minds.  
  
Akaashi placed an eraser by his hand just when he needed it, or pushed a magazine to him when he felt bored.  
  
Keiji always suggested watching volleyball either live or on the screen every time Iwaizumi thought to suggest watching his favourite films.

  
  
9 They shared looks.  
  
Blank stares. Unimpressed glares. Cynical squints. Like when Iwaizumi said he was going hunting for yet-to-be-owned figures or getting excited at cool slogans on T-shirts. Or asking Akaashi to turn his head 360° because he thought owls could. (They couldn’t.)

  
  
10 Mostly though, Iwaizumi caught Akaashi thoughtfully watching, same as with Keiji. It sent a shiver through him, like they were reading a part of his soul even he wasn’t aware of. Akaashi would hoot and fly over to land on his shoulder, nuzzling at his cheek.  
  
Keiji would smile.  
  



	11. Enigma of Eyes

It was quiet. Too quiet, Iwaizumi thought as he did his homework, especially when his visitor, Oikawa, tended to provide constant updates on his studies. Which meant he‘d either drifted off to sleep, or was viewing volleyball news or matches on his phone.  
  
Iwaizumi glanced up, found Oikawa locked in a staredown with Akaashi.  
  
“…What are you doing?” he slowly asked.  
  
“Engaging in heart-to-heart communication,” was the flat reply.  
  
Iwaizumi put down his pencil. Rolled up his sleeves. Crossed his arms. Took a deep breath.  
  
“You’re what?”  
  
Oikawa hadn’t noticed the ‘I demand a decent explanation or I will wrestle you to the ground’ pose.  
  
“Shh, Akaashi-chan and I are in the middle of a deep conversation.”  
  
“You’re not saying anything!”  
  
Oikawa heaved a sigh and broke eye contact; Akaashi hooted and flapped his wings.  
  
“Don’t you know? Gazing into a Mini-Kin’s eyes helps to deepen your connection.”  
  
“I’ve never heard of that.”  
  
“You hadn’t even heard of a Mini-Kin until recently!”  
  
“Just… talk?”  
  
“Some things can’t be conveyed verbally. Which is perfect for you, Iwa-chan, because you’re not very—”  
  
Iwaizumi pounced on him.

Oikawa stayed until he finished his work, leaving Iwaizumi to rescue Akaashi who had fallen into the glass that earlier contained water (making Iwaizumi think in some ways the two were similar – but that thought was to be mulled over another time).  
  
Iwaizumi tapped the top of Akaashi’s head. “So you and Oikawa were getting friendly, huh?”  
  
Akaashi nipped at his finger, and Iwaizumi changed to petting instead; Akaashi closed his eyes and hooted quietly in satisfaction.  
  
“Was he right?”  
  
Another hoot; Akaashi opened his eyes.  
  
They were darker than Keiji’s, though Iwaizumi still classified them grey. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing; as a test, he sent a mental message of ‘if you can hear me, hoot’, to which—  
  
Akaashi continued to stare, unblinking.  
  
“Oikawa’s messing with me,” he mumbled.  
  
But, as he petted, he still didn’t break eye contact; not when Akaashi looked alert than sleepy, almost waiting patiently on Iwaizumi, waiting to see the reflection of something click into place.  
  
What that was, Iwaizumi didn’t know.  
  
He was reminded of that phrase, eyes being a mirror of the soul. Then he was reminded of a Mini-Kin representing a person’s feelings. So technically, Akaashi was a reflection of Keiji’s soul, something pulled out and stored into this tiny, feathery body.  
  
Which made him wonder—  
  
“What am I staring at?”  
  
And as he stared – watched – observed – he felt he was close to touching an answer in the steely grey so solid, like a defensive wall, yet so fluid with thoughts flittering—  
  
Akaashi blinked, hooted, closed his eyes, hooted quietly again in satisfaction.


	12. Akaashi's First Impressions

In the very beginning when Keiji had asked if Akaashi knew anything about ‘Iwaizumi-san’, Akaashi hooted ‘no’, and that he would like to know more.  
  
Keiji didn’t tell him more. He said it would be better if he met him and determined his character for himself.  
  
It had been noisy when Akaashi met ‘Iwaizumi-san’. Inside Keiji’s pocket the noise had been bearable, but once in the open it was almost too much for his sensitive ears tuned to pick up the smallest of sounds including skin rubbing skin or fingers ruffling hair.  
  
And though he enjoyed flying, the way the background swam made him queasy. The blurriness didn’t help; though his eyes should have been sharp (for he was an Akaashi owl) it was not as good as they should have been (for he was an Akaashi-Keiji owl).  
  
Staring up at ‘Iwaizumi-san’, Akaashi felt grounded, felt warmth bubbling in his chest, and yet ‘Iwaizumi-san’ didn’t feel very approachable.  
  
It was the cutting gaze. The serious line of his mouth. The hair looking bristly and uncomfortable.  
  
He glanced back at Keiji, who had encouraged him to hop over; he did, onto the hand held out, its cushioning firm.  
  
It was comfortable on his talons.  
  
A finger poked him just above his left eye. He then realised from its movement that he was being petted.  
  
It was clumsy, but nice.  
  
On the train back home, Akaashi sat on the sill watching colours blend from grey to green to pink to black with white dots. He turned his head round once to check on ‘Iwaizumi-san’; he could only see a mop of hair, head weighted forward by sleep.  
  
He was picked up and placed on top of the hoodie squashed into the rucksack with the zip partially open. All he could see was dark as he bobbed up and down. It almost made him sleepy, until bright lights shone down to force him awake, and a hand reached in to place him on a desk.  
  
‘Iwaizumi-san’ offered him food. He refused; that night he wasn’t in a hungry mood.  
  
From the desk he watched ‘Iwaizumi-san’ bustle around the room, mumbling to himself as he picked objects to put into a box, slide furniture around the room.  
  
And when ‘Iwaizumi-san’ had changed into baggy clothes, he asked—  
  
“Do you miss him?”  
  
Akaashi tilted his head. He decided yes, and hooted.  
  
He was lifted up and carried to the bed, where ‘Iwaizumi-san’ propped up his pillow to sit slumped. Strange; Keiji had slept lying down.  
  
“Just for tonight,” he said, and put Akaashi on his chest, hand draped like a blanket; the weight was just about right.  
  
He pulled his own blanket to his waist, then closed his eyes.  
  
Akaashi watched to see if he would open them again.  
  
He did, a sliver; Akaashi hooted.  
  
“…Night.”  
  



	13. Ace to Ace

Iwaizumi’s phone began to buzz on his desk; Iwaizumi checked the caller, picked up the phone and pushed it as far away from his face as he could before pressing the button to accept—  
  
 _“IWA-CHAN! HOW ARE YOU?”  
_  
Iwaizumi brought the phone to his ear. “Good. How ’bout you?”  
  
He said it quietly, to urge the caller to drop his volume. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.  
  
 _“I’m great!” (It worked.) “’Kaashi told me he gave you a Mini-Kin!”  
_  
“Yeah, he—”  
  
 _“He didn’t even show him to me! You’ve got to come down again and show me! I love owls!”  
_  
Iwaizumi snorted; he wasn’t surprised Keiji hadn’t told Bokuto. He probably mentioned it in passing, like the time he revealed his birthday on his birthday, or when he slipped in his confession between mouthfuls of food like he was asking Iwaizumi to pass the soy sauce.  
  
 _“Send me a photo!”_ Bokuto continued _. “I bet he’s really cute! Man, I wish I could get a Mini-Kin owl – though, I’d be happy with any animal!”  
  
_ Iwaizumi shot a look at Akaashi, hopping over having heard the voice leaking from the speaker end, flapping his arms in excitement.  
  
Iwaizumi had mentioned Bokuto by name a few of times, each time Akaashi reacted the same. And though he knew Keiji didn’t flail his arms, he’d definitely noticed Keiji’s talk pick up pace when describing Bokuto’s play, eyes lighting up when he successfully supported his Ace.   
  
(He wasn’t jealous.)  
  
 _“But that’s not why I called!”  
_  
Iwaizumi blinked awake.  
  
Bokuto cleared his throat loudly; Iwaizumi waited.  
  
 _“Iwaizumi.”  
_  
Along with dropping the nickname, he also shook off his excitement and laughter, and Iwaizumi’s body automatically sat up.  
  
 _“As Akaashi’s captain and friends’ representative, I want you to know I trust you to look after him, and not hurt him. Obviously ’Kaashi trusts you, if he’s given you a Mini-Kin, he doesn’t do anything without thinking stuff through.”  
_  
Iwaizumi waited for the threat to follow.  
  
The only thing that followed was silence.  
  
“Uh. Is that… it?”  
  
 _“Yep! Oh! And make sure you get yourself through to the Nationals this year, we need to battle it out Ace to Ace!”  
_  
Iwaizumi laughed; relief was mingled little in there. “That eager to lose?”  
  
 _“Your team won’t win when the Ace can’t hit a spike!”  
_  
“I can hit a spike,” Iwaizumi said, heated.  
  
 _“Not when ’Kaashi’s on the other side of the net.”  
_  
“Doesn’t matter who’s on the other side of the net.”  
  
 _“Doesn’t it?”  
_  
…  
  
He wasn’t sure. So he quickly said good night and hung up.  
  



	14. The Advice of One Charming, Caring, Compassionate Friend  (Part I)

“Iwa-chan! What’s on your mind?” Oikawa came to lean on his shoulder as Iwaizumi did up his shirt; for once he didn’t shrug him off.  
  
“Getting changed and going home.”  
  
He reached in his locker for his tie, pulled sharply and unravelled the tie-nest—  
  
Hooted complaints followed.  
  
“Don’t blame poor Akaashi-chan for you being distracted!”  
  
Oikawa reached in to pick Akaashi up and smoothed his mood over with long strokes over his head and back.  
  
Another time and Iwaizumi would have asked when they got so chummy.  
  
“Come on, tell Oikawa-san your troubles!”  
  
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Just lost my concentration tonight. I’ll have it sorted by next practice.”  
  
He knew better than to let emotions rule his head.  
  
Yet he couldn’t help overlapping Matsukawa, who had been standing on the other side of the net, with Keiji.  
  
He imagined his calculating gaze, the one where he was running a hundred options while Iwaizumi was still on his first. Keiji would read him and his hesitation in an instant. It wouldn’t just be him – Bokuto would take set him as target, as would the rest of the team—  
  
And then a ball had smacked him in the back of the head. He’d turned to see a pitying smile and hear an overly-happy apology for the ‘bad serve’.  
  
“And here I was thinking you might be worried about facing Keiji-chan in the Nationals—“  
  
“How d'you know—”  
  
“A little bird told me.”  
  
Iwaizumi automatically glared at Akaashi, who flapped his wings as though in denial.  
  
“The other little bird, Iwa-chan.”  
  
Iwaizumi frowned. “Keiji?”  
  
Oikawa shook his head – though more at Iwaizumi’s bad guessing. “Bokkun! He messaged to say good luck with my Ace out of action.”  
  
After tugging on his blazer, Iwaizumi wrapped his scarf and – taking Akaashi back – snuggled him in one of the deeper creases.  
  
He grabbed his bag. “Yeah, well. Tonight won’t happen again.”  
  
Ignoring Oikawa’s calls to wait, he left.  
  
The night air nipped at him, as did his concerns.  
  
It didn’t take long for hurried footsteps to fall into step beside his saunter.  
  
“It’s not like you to think beyond the next point, let alone the next match,” Oikawa said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Situation’s different now.”  
  
“Are you worried you’re going to choke in front of him?”  
  
Iwaizumi stayed silent, focused on the warm bump and feathers tickling his chin.  
  
“Who’d have thought Iwaizumi Hajime would be so sentimental—”  
  
Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was riling him; Oikawa already knew how deeply he ended up caring.  
  
“—I don’t think anyone else would be affected—”  
  
“Because no one else has a living heart to look after.”  
  
The soft hoot also sounded weak.  
  
“It sounds like you have a very different concern.”  
  
Oikawa’s tone was gentle, and Iwaizumi didn’t like it. Because it meant Oikawa was going to be wise, and Iwaizumi was going to be the fool.  
  



	15. The Advice of One Charming, Caring, Compassionate Friend  (Part II)

Sitting on the park bench, Iwaizumi was about to bite into his cooled nikuman when he caught Akaashi on his lap staring.  
  
He lowered the food to feeding height.  
  
“So what you want to say,” he heard Oikawa say, “is the enormity of Akaashi-chan’s tiny existence just hit you.”  
  
Iwaizumi watched Akaashi peck at the white bun. “I’ve never been afraid of his feelings, or doubted them, either before all this or when he gave me… Akaashi.”  
  
Akaashi looked up with his mouth stuffed full; he swallowed and hooted.  
  
“So?”  
  
“So… what if mine doesn’t match up?”  
  
“Mini-Kins don’t demand reciprocation,” Oikawa said lightly. “They’re not an indicator that one person’s emotions are stronger, they just represent strong feelings. And theories suggest emotion from the other party’s also needed, only no one knows exactly what or why.”  
  
Iwaizumi barked a hollow laugh. “That’s convenient. You’d think there’d be tons of research out there.”  
  
“The subject’s too personal. And – well, they say there’s a risk of becoming cursed if you record anything.”  
  
Glancing to Oikawa, Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”  
  
“How else do you explain the lack of information? Everything’s relayed through word of mouth. Almost like a hint to say ‘discover the answer on your own’…”  
  
Oikawa quieted, and Iwaizumi turned to his half-eaten bun. He tore off a bitesize piece, rotating it between his fingers.  
  
“Iwa-chan – why are you thinking so hard about this—”  
  
“Don’t even think about saying thinking’s not my strong point—”  
  
“Of course it’s not – your down-to-earth nature and your gut instinct is. They’ve never failed you so far, why are you doubting them now?”  
  
Oikawa... may have been right. Iwaizumi had had unexplainable incidences with Keiji that fell outside of coincidence – knowing each other’s names had been one of them.  
  
“…What if his feelings... fa – _ow_!”  
  
Akaashi nipped his finger while nabbing the bitesize piece.  
  
“When I said they only appear once in a lifetime, I meant that’s all it takes.” Oikawa’s shoulder bumped into his. “But you already knew that. You just wanted confirmation.”  
  
Slowly, Iwaizumi nodded.  
  
Akaashi swallowed the remaining bite, leaving Iwaizumi with an empty sheet.  
  
Oikawa pushed himself up. “Then Oikawa-san’s work here is done. You know what the payment is.”  
  
Iwaizumi looked up with a grin. “A month’s worth of milk bread?”  
  
“Hmm…” Oikawa rubbed his chin. “Three to last the rest of the week, and we’re even.”  
  
“That’s cheap.”  
  
“That’s fair.”  
  
Iwaizumi picked up Akaashi; he was slightly heavier.  
  
“And” – he looked back to Oikawa – “all you need to remember is: Akaashi-chan is a reflection of Keiji-chan. Basically, if Keiji-chan saw you on court, he’ll turn into an excitable, flappy owl.”  
  
Oikawa waved and walked away.  
  



	16. Hoo.

Chin in hand, Iwaizumi twirled his pencil between his fingers.  
  
“Hoot.”  
  
Without looking up, Iwaizumi replied— “Dinner’s not for another hour or so.”  
  
“Hoot.”  
  
“You’ll just have to wait.”  
  
A flap of wings and Akaashi landed on Iwaizumi’s pencil-holding hand.  
Clenching his talons—  
  
“Ow! Stop it – stop!”  
  
Iwaizumi dropped his pencil and waved his hand; Akaashi flapped off, leaving Iwaizumi to rub over the red pinpricks close to breaking skin.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
Akaashi flew to the edge of the table – landed by Iwaizumi’s phone and clawed it.  
  
“Don’t scratch it!”  
  
Iwaizumi grabbed his phone before Akaashi did actual damage (at least he’d stuck on a film).  
  
“You want to watch more owl videos?”  
  
A fit of irritated hoots.  
  
Iwaizumi frowned at him, wondering what else he could want.  
  
“You know what—”  
  
He pulled up a number.  
  
Five rings, and the screen switched from black to a video.  
  
“Good evening. Were we scheduled to call today?”  
  
Keiji was still in his uniform, though Iwaizumi could see his room in the background.  
  
“No, I just wanted to – oi!”  
  
Akaashi flew to shove his face up to the camera.  
  
More hooting (from the tone it sounded suspiciously like Akaashi was bad-mouthing him).  
  
Iwaizumi heard a quiet chuckle, and he wished he could see Keiji’s face.  
  
“He says he wishes you would listen to what he’s trying to say—”  
  
“Hey!” Iwaizumi prodded the featherball. “I listen—”  
  
More rapid hooting – at Keiji.  
  
“…And that you work on your comprehension skills.”  
  
Iwaizumi huffed. “Can you ask him what he wanted?”  
  
A soft hoot.  
  
“He just wanted to see me.”  
  
Another hoot, and then Akaashi flew across the room onto Iwaizumi’s pillow where he settled down.  
  
“And now he’s satisfied.”  
  
Iwaizumi turned back to Keiji. “He’s demanding.”  
  
“Is that good or bad?”  
  
Thinking about Keiji and his soft-spoken suggestions, he answered— “I’ll learn to pick up cues on when you want to make a demand, but are holding back.”  
  
“Ah, so it’s bad news for me—  
  
“—But only if your comprehension abilities increase.”  
  
Iwaizumi grimaced. “I’m hanging up.”  
  
“Hajime-san—”  
  
Iwaizumi’s heart jumped at the name; he’d heard his given name several times – just not while seeing his face.  
  
“Thank you for calling. It was a nice surprise.”  
  
Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck. “It was good seeing you. I’ll catch you over the weekend… Keiji.”  
  
Keiji glanced aside, a pleased curl on the corner of his mouth, and it made Iwaizumi want to take a screenshot.  
  
He didn’t, because he had to keep his third-year rep intact.  
  
They exchanged goodbyes and he hung up.  
  
His room felt chilled without the warmth of Keiji’s voice—  
  
“Hoo! Hoooo-hoo-hoo.”  
  
“Yeah, I know you’re here. And I did want to see him. You get my thanks.” He shot a side-glance. “Did I get that one right?”  
  
“Hoo!”  
  



End file.
